I think next time I fly international and only take hand luggage, I won’t get there so early. I left the apartment later I originally planned, thinking I’d get to the airport with only an hour and a half until the flight. Somehow, I got there two hours before take off. I walked past the check-in counter for Air Canada and saw the long queue of people waiting to check their baggage. I was so glad I only took a carry-on bag.

Security was really quick so I was at the gate, waiting, with plenty of time to spare. The flight was completely full. There wasn’t a single seat available (except in Business Class, which was going to cost an additional $1300 I didn’t have. It was very tempting to blow the money though.). Because the plane was so full, everyone milled around the gate, desperate to get on board and grab a place for their carry-on baggage. I must admit, this time, I was one of them. I managed to get on early (being my seat was towards the back of the plane) and stowed my baggage, waiting for the plane to fill up.

We left about an hour late, as there was some problem with one of the computer systems, which required a reboot and setup. I watched an episode of Fawlty Towers, took a sleeping pill, and was asleep before the plane took off. At least I think I was. I don’t remember taking off but maybe…no…I was awake, I watched the safety demonstration. Anyway, I was asleep soon after getting into the air.

We were served a late dinner and I ate through a drugged haze, woke again as the people beside me wanted to go to the bathroom, and then slept all the way through until about an hour or so before landing. I woke to find a bagel – my breakfast – on the tray in front of me. I don’t normally sleep on planes, not so easily anyway, so it was a real treat to be unconscious for most of the seven hour flight.

Landing at Heathrow, somewhere at the arse-end of Terminal 2, I walked miles to get to border control. I thanked my mother for her British lineage as I went through the e-passport EU line in a matter of seconds. Then it was to the Heathrow Express, somewhere miles away again, boarded the train and was at Paddington Station in about 15 minutes.

I’ve been to London so many times now that everything is so familiar. There’s no disorientation over where to go to top up my Oyster card, which train line to catch, where to get off. It’s nice not to have the stress of worrying you’re going to get lost. I jumped on a District Line train to Wimbledon and was surprised to see that it’s a new train. It has air conditioning, electronic signs and clean seats. Amazing! I was also surprised at how much better Earls Court station is looking.

Every time I’ve been here over the past ten-plus years, Earls Court has been a mess of construction. Now all the scaffolding has gone and it looks much better. I got off the train at East Putney station and then walked up to Jackie’s. Laura was there to meet me, we chatted for a bit, I dumped my bag, and went down the road to get a few things, one of which being a SIM card.

I dislike phone shops. The one I went into was busy, with a bunch of people being served, and another bunch of people waiting. One customer was getting irate about a package that had been delivered that he didn’t ask for. The people in the shop weren’t going to help him out as it was a sales issue and should have been dealt with by someone else. He was getting more and more annoyed. It was pretty bad.

I got a SIM. The guy set it up for me, or at least he tried. It wouldn’t work. He said to try again in 15 minutes and if it didn’t work then, I should come back. I left. Did some shopping. It didn’t work. I came back. They fixed it. Sorted. I’m now getting bothered by the phone company with SMS about service and blah blah blah.

I went home, worked on my laptop and then passed out about 6pm, waking up when Laura asked if I wanted dinner. Felt very disoriented but glad to get some food into me. I hadn’t eaten much at all during the day. We watched Grand Designs while eating and then, at 9pm, I went to bed.

I’ve just realised that I’ve been to the UK three years in a row, two of those trips happening at the same time (July). Almost becoming a second (or third) home. Of course, it’s a bit hard to call it a home without Glen here.